


Whiskey Tango BJ

by eridiated



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Blue Balls, Drunkenness, M/M, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3677475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eridiated/pseuds/eridiated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yeesh, buzz kill," Jack grouched, getting another glass and shoving it in Axton's direction. "Here, <i>this</i> is what cultured people drink." There was a bit of hesitation in the accepting the glass shoved in his direction. Axton was pretty sure it was whiskey. He hated that shit. "I hear it's magic," Jack wiggled his fingers in the air, "...it helps with moral dilemmas." Without shame he laughed at his own smart ass remark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whiskey Tango BJ

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct follow-up to Face Down, Ass Up. It directly references the previous story, so I would suggest taking a peak at it. There might be one more to follow after this. However, if it goes beyond the three part mark, I'll condense it into sequential chapters. Just kind of flying by the seat of my pants here.

He felt out of place. He certainly looked like it, too. Axton was traipsing through the crowds of Opportunity. No one here wore nearly the same amount of equipment the commando had strapped to him, or even quite looked as drab. Most of the men he passed had a very distinct but similar look to them. Clean cut and well dressed. Even the women carried a similar presence. Axton could recognize Opportunity for what it was, Jack's ego stroking circle jerk.

If the promise of getting paid hadn't lured him back into enemy territory, Axton would have rather been spending his time at Moxxi's bar. His feet halted in the middle of the stream of people around him. Axton's shoulder was bumped hard by another man passing him.

"Hey! Watch it!" he snapped gruffly. The god damn nerve of these people. Hyperion had better be done processing the approval for his completed mission soon. Axton hated these people. He had to get away. His focus darted around the lit signs surrounding him.

Vici. Axton thought it looked like a bar. Pretentious and trendy. "Vici..? As in?" He thought aloud, already hating where his train of thought was going. Vini, vidi.. _**I conquered**_. Axton eyes rolled so hard that they might not have come back down. Fine. Whatever. It was a place to waste some time until the bounty cleared to his account.

Axton cut through the crowd, leading with his shoulder. This place at least better have cold beer. He knew he might explode if he was stuck ordering over priced martinis. He walked into the dark establishment, unable to see much beyond the little hostess station. This place was packed, he could hear it. A dull buzz of calm conversation igniting the air.

He paid no mind to the pestering young man who was trying to get him to wait at the front of the house. Axton didn't need to be waited on, or really -- wasn't in the mood to wait. He made his way down one of the lowly lit aisles. There really wasn't much of anything left open. A little further and he stopped at the bar at the back. Just beyond the shelves of liquor, there was a view into another lowly lit room directly behind the bar.

Axton strode past, another protest from the smaller man behind him. "Sir, you can't go in there. That isn't for the public." There was a little fear in his voice and the persistent soldier wasn't exactly sure why. He was strapped with weapons, but he wasn't exactly waving any of them in his face.

"I can't?" he questioned, an eyebrow raising in obvious challenge. He took a few more steps and the man stopped following him, stopping so abruptly that it looked as if a glass wall had sprung up between them. Axton wasn't going to let another stuck up, entitled asshole ruin the glory of his payday. "How about you watch?" Axton pulled back the golden velvet curtain, all the while throwing a smug smile back at the employee.

He pulled his assault rifle from his back in an effort to make sitting easier, allowing relaxation some attainability. Axton let out a sigh, leaning back into the back of a plush cushion. It might have been pretentious, but his muscles appreciated the attention to detail.

"This isn't so bad," he assured himself, green eyes flitting across the hardwood of the floors. Small tables laid out along the landscape of the room. Warm light from the candles sitting on top of them illuminated the room. Gold and black decor, with a few small accents of red. It was all very company issued, but wasn't quite as hard or streamlined. The room was somewhat inviting, warm. "Actually, this... is pretty damn nice," he sighed, leaning his head back into his hands. He slouched against the couch and propped his boot on his knee.

"Yyyeah," there was a clink of ice against glass. "That would be because it's mine." Axton nearly jumped out of his skin. He heard the familiar, smooth tenor from the corner of the room, directly to his left. Blue and green eyes peeked beyond the edge of the low ball clenched in between slim fingers. Jack's elbow was propped up on the table he was seated at, his other hand held a dimly glowing tablet.

So this was all the fuss. This was why Axton was being pestered by the host who was trying to chase him down like an angry bee. The soldier knew that staying was a poor decision. Fight or flight -- and flight was the best option. Imploding right on the spot would have been an even better option. Axton moved to grab his rifle, feeling like he might be set ablaze if he looked at Jack for too long.

"No, no, no, no, you stay kiddo," Jack smiled, setting his empty glass on the table. He was in just enough range to reach his hand up to the bar window. A phantom hand placed another of the same in Jack's, without missing a beat. Axton wondered if Jack had premeditated these types of moments. He was such a damned try hard. "You've earned it," he said with a mockingly official tone, taking a sip of his drink and setting his work down.

Axton sat back down in his seat uncomfortably. Invited to stay in the viper's den. It was only a few days ago that he was in Opportunity. Covered in slag. Taking Jack against his will. Well, maybe in the beginning. Axton was still unsure of what was exactly wrong with him, to think that even doing that sort of thing wouldn't have resolved in him getting the very life strangled out of him.

He focused as best he could through the darkness, looking Jack over. His jacket was gone and his vest and dress shirt were open. His Hyperion branded t-shirt was visible with to the lack of fastened buttons and clasps. Jack leaned his head towards his free hand and slid off the black rimmed glasses on his face, closing them into his palm. Axton was a little taken aback. Glasses. Huh, well -- who knew?

"You, uh, sure you want me to stay? You look like you're in the middle of something," Axton asked, shifting uncomfortably in his nervousness. "Shut up." he barked, setting his glasses down and waving him over. "Just shut up and sit down, since you've already gone and made yourself at home." Jack went to take another sip, but halted. He looked up from his glass with a glare at the shamelessly obliging male, ".. Savage."

Axton couldn't help but let out his inner amusement. He was aware that Jack thought he was so much better than him. He slunk down next to Jack, keeping himself out of arms reach. He looked up through the window he sat beneath. "Beer and a shot," he rasped, keeping his eyes fixed carefully on Jack. Without a beat his request was fulfilled. Axton couldn't help but feel slightly impressed at the way things were fixed to operate. He grabbed his shot, knocking it back and following with his pint.

"You've been a busy little boy scout lately, huh?" Jack said, watching the soldier imbibe. Axton was trying to work the wince away on his face from the hard alcohol he snapped down. He swallowed his drink and wiped at the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

"You could say that. Man's gotta eat," he replied, tilting the glass towards himself and looking through its effervescence. "You should be eating really well with what I've been paying you." Jack rubbed this thumb and fingers together in Axton's direction. Mimicking the fan of dollars in his one hand. "At this rate you might as well be working for me," Jack mused, leaning an arm onto the back of the corner seat he was currently melting into.

"You know that that's never gonna happen," Axton laughed, shaking his head a few times. Jack's ice rocked back in his glass as he polished off the single serving of amber liquid. "It wasn't a job offer, trust me." Another fresh glass was in his hand, retreating from the sill. "You've just been banging out whatever I put up on that bounty board," he sipped again. "I'm impressed, actually -- d'you sleep? Like.." He paused in thought. "Ever?"

Axton laughed again. "Yeah, I do. Not well.. Some days," the morality of it sometimes tugged at his conscience. Saving Pandora, but also picking up jobs from Hyperion. Saving Pandora wasn't exactly lucrative in the ways he needed it to be.

"Yeesh, buzz kill," Jack grouched, getting another glass and shoving it in Axton's direction. "Here, _this_ is what cultured people drink." There was a bit of hesitation in the accepting the glass shoved in his direction. Axton was pretty sure it was whiskey. He hated that shit. "I hear it's magic," Jack wiggled his fingers in the air, "...it helps with moral dilemmas." Without shame he laughed at his own smart ass remark.

"Ha. Ha," Axton replied pointedly, and winced into the glass. He tipped it back, getting it all in a single mouth full and swallowed hard. His shoulders shuddered as he tried to chase it down with the rest of his preferred drink. Jack was almost left speechless. "Wh-what are you even doing?! Did you even taste that?" He snatched the empty glass from Axton's hand with a glare and snapped it down onto the surface of the table. Disgusted.

"Unfortunately, yeah," Axton's voice sounded strained as he coughed and choked for a few seconds longer. Maybe the whiskey wasn't magic, but the beer waiting for him in the long rectangular window certainly was. Jack sighed, setting down another one of his own empty glasses. His third empty glass. One more, maybe. "So, what's with all the accessories? They like trophies or somethin'? I dunno about bandit culture all that well. Would you even call it that?" Jack grabbed his next glass and set it down on the table, before he moved to grab the same necklace he addressed briefly before in their last meeting.

"Jack, don't you know about personal space," Axton said, his hand on top of Jack's, trying to remove it from his dog tags. "Please tell me you got it because it complimented your eyes, because that would _just_ be so great," he teased, if anything he moved closer. He could not care less at the protests of the soldier. Jack would do whatever he wanted. Between trying to work Jack's hand away from him and trying not to spill his drink, Axton looked rather unhappy.

"I really don't think you understand the dynamic of the situation here, kitten" Jack tightened his grip, shifting to his knees and leaning in more. He reoccupied his free hand with his whiskey and took a long drink right by Axton's face. "You're sitting here in my lounge, on my skag skin couches, drinking at my expense, filling your bank account with my money." Jack leaned into the range of Axton's ear, speaking in a hushed purr, "Now tell me, in what world are you not my bitch?"

Jack's teeth clicked shut just loud enough to register in Axton's ear. It made a tingle shoot up his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. Axton knew that he could typically run his clever mouth however he liked to respond to Jack constantly berating him. Those times, though, Jack wasn't nearly on top of him.  
Axton opened his mouth to speak, "Sarah," but it was only a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again, "Her name was Sarah." He felt the tension on his neck release a little and Jack leaned back to meet his eyes with a glazed and hauntingly inebriated look.

"She's my ex-wife, we served together," he continued and Jack slunk back a little more, listening and polishing off number four. "Ex-Wife, hm?" he cooed, giving Axton a feigned look of sadness, "Was she not into the same brand of seduction as you are?" Axton took the break in Jack's closeness to finish his drink and free one of his hands. Now he was freely mentioning last time, and Axton felt his life shorten by a several minutes. Jack was dangerous already, but the alcohol made it much harder to hide.

"That really wasn't the case," Axton chuckled nervously and licked his lips, the action was just enough to catch Jack's attention. "I can't recall you complaining much, at least by the end," Axton gulped down air, testing the waters. Jack almost had something to say, his lips parted and he drew his breath in -- but he shut his mouth abruptly. The gears were turning, just a little bit slower than usual. Jack let go of of the ring and slid his fingers under the tactical collar around Axton's neck.

Jack didn't tug or yank this time, it was an anchor to get the leverage he needed to slip himself into position on Axton's lap, straddling him. "Jack, someone could..." Axton wasn't sure what to do, let alone what to do with his hands.

"Did you fuck her like you fucked me?" Jack stared down into his eyes, his free hand tucking itself into the short blond hair on the back of his head. "Jesus, Jack. I--" It was awfully hot in this tiny room. Axton's hands rested on the tops of Jack's thighs and squeezed. Need was waking in his groin and his dulled senses couldn't differentiate between the danger and the sudden lust on Jack's face.

"Did you..?" he asked again, his fingers letting lose of the mic on his neck and tilted Axton's face up towards his. His index and middle pressing just below the scar on his chin. Axton knew what he meant, though. He wasn't asking about if he did, he was asking about how.

"No, Jack," his lips parted slightly as his head tipped back at Jack's influence. Pressing his lips to Axton's, a faintly orgasmic mewl escaped through his nose. He could taste the lingering hops on Axton's tongue as his made feverish contact. Axton felt a pang of shy guilt as he tasted Jack's lips, his whiskey ridden mouth. So soft and so well cared for.

"So, does this mean we're dating now?" Axton asked, recalling what Jack had said before about kissing. "What? No," Jack said with a smirk and let out a single laugh, amused at the commando's recollection. Maybe he was just a little brighter than he gave him credit for.

"Is this what you want? Here?" Axton asked, cradling Jack's ass and laying him back onto the couch. Jack's arms circled around his neck and gladly acquiesced to the commando's urging. "Oh, okay, so that's what we're doing. We're asking permission, now," Jack quipped, one of his hands grabbed Axton's chin a little too hard and shook. He could just just fucking smack him.

"What if someone--" "Are you kidding me with this?" Jack interrupted, tightening his grip a little more. Axton cringed at the increasing pressure and pulled the other man's hand away, holding him by the wrist and pinning it to the leather beneath them.

Axton was on top of him now revisiting the sweet confines of Jack's mouth. Jack's legs parted around him, still adjusting to having such a heavy presence on and around him. With the one arm he had free, he reached blindly for his half finished drink. Axton halted his affection, pushing himself up on both hands and looked at him strangely. "Seriously?" Axton huffed.

"Don't let it stop you, kiddo. Papa kinda had a rough day at work," Jack admitted, propping himself on one of his elbows. Axton tried to hide his smile. Just absolutely unbelievable. "Fine," he chortled, starting to work his way down Jack's body. His hand pulled up on the hem of his shirt, and pressed his mouth to the naked and lean skin. Jack choked, unceremoniously wiping whiskey splatter dry.

Axton watched carefully, tongue paying attention to at an exposed hipbone. Jack was reassuring himself that this just had to be one of those self-fulfilling prophecies. After the night that Axton had met with him in his office, he found himself thinking about the way he fucked him. During pauses in work, or mentally checking out when someone was talking to him, one time in the shower. It was just a little too good to not want more.

One of Axton's hands was working at Jack's belt, unhinging and pulling it loose. Jack was relishing the moment, whiskey and a blowjob? Yes, and please. Please now. "Don't tell me," he took another sip, "You're trying to make up for last time, pumpkin." Jack's eyes surveyed the tracks of kisses the commando was laying down on his torso, gazing shamelessly at him.

"You'll know," Axton took skin between his teeth, tongue swirling over the captive flesh. Jack felt like he put his finger in a light socket, hips raising into the mouth that teased him. ".. if I am," Axton pulled Jack's fly apart, exposing his very angry and very stiff erection. He mouthed him through the tight material over him, applying just enough pressure with his lips to get his first sound out of Jack.

He looked up and saw Jack's interest, the slack jawed need on his face. Green eyes stared up at him, fingers carefully pulling him from the confines of his underwear. Axton planted a kiss on the underside of the hardness begging before him. His lips slid up to just under his head, tongue pressed against the underside of his cock.  
Jack almost dropped his drink. Axton took him into his mouth. Tongue pressed up against the bottom side of his dick, providing small strokes as he bobbed his head in careful strokes.

"Ahhn, okay. I get it, I get it. Yeah, yeah okay. You are," Jack smiled almost gleefully to himself, letting out a pleased whine. The art in which he felt himself get worked was already better than he had imagined. Axton worked lower now, the strokes of his mouth taking in Jack just a little further every time.

"Oh jesus, kitten -- look at me, again," Jack whined, his hips shifting just enough to meet the mouth sucking his cock. Axton complied. His eyes locked with Jack's, his hollowed cheeks thinning out his face. Axton hummed into the hardness in his mouth, his own starting to press uncomfortably into the couch.

One of Axton's free hands grabbed Jack, working at his base while his mouth worked closer to the tip. Tongue swirling and rubbing. There was a suction begging to be filled. Jack moaned into his glass and finished it off. If he could build an empire on him getting sucked off while he drank, he would build that bitch in a day.

Jack watched Axton pump his mouth around his dick, while trying to find the table top to set his empty glass down. Instead it found the ground with a crash, glass scattering across the floor. He didn't care. Jack's hands reached for the back of Axton's head, urging him down a little further and raising his own hips up. There was a choke and shudder from the commando that followed. The response due to the soldier trying to breathe and instead getting a lungful of cock instead.

"Sorry, sorry," Jack half-moaned and the other teasing, "A little carried away, what with all that talent you have," he laid back, finally shutting his eyes. His upper lip curled as Axton focused his mouth on his tip and his hand groped at Jack's balls, squeezing then up against his palm. Jack's fingers knitted into the front of his hair, his lower back arching instinctively. A relentless string of moaned curses hit the air. Axton knew that prayer. He was close.

"Please, please just don't stop," being so close to finishing pulled a haze over Jack's senses, willing to say anything he needed to reach it, desperate for Axton to get him there. Just where he needed and wanted to be. Axton responded with an acknowledging purr, thrilled at his own drunkenness and need.

Jack became quiet, his mouth agape and his fingers contorting in a spasm that quickly traveled to the rest of his body. Then the sounds came, quiet first and then more demanding, louder. Axton felt the cock in his mouth grow a little harder and then spend itself in short, repeated contractions. Trying to swallow in time to allow room for more of Jack's cum took a conscious effort while trying to gently work the rest out of his twitching shaft.

Jack's palm found Axton's forehead to push him away. "No, no kitten. That's _nnf_ , that's a little too much," he panted and whined, scooting himself away, sensitive to the lingering attention from the soldier between his legs. He was trying to catch his breath before he decided to pull himself up onto his elbows, opening his eyes enough to look at the soldier thumbing the side of his mouth. "Please, tell me that's something DAHL teaches in basic training," Jack couldn't help but smile while he fixed his hair.

Axton didn't really respond, just adjusting himself in his pants as he sat upright in his seat. "Not exactly the case," he admitted, looking Jack over. He might have been drunk, but he knew what that look was hinting at. Jack swung his legs over the floor and fixed himself into his pants. The glass crunched under his sneakers as he shifted. Axton's heart sunk a little, he had this sick feeling that he was going to be left wanting. "You're paid up by now, I'd guess," Jack sighed, one arm laying across the backrest of his seat. The warmth and buzz starting to fade from his senses. "You.. you want to me leave," Axton half-heartedly asked, almost in disbelief. Jack locked eyes with him for a moment, silence settling uncomfortably in the air.

"Ooh, you know what? I just had the greatest idea. I should install lights -- wait, wait hear me out, here -- on the floor to direct everyone to the nearest exit. Brilliant, right?" Jack replied, whatever energy and sobriety he held onto was being directly focused into his snark. "This way no one has to ever ask," smarm painted on his features. He knew what he was doing, he also was enjoying it. Axton could take the hint, he stood and shot a particularly frustrated look back at Jack as he picked up his rifle.

"Good luck on that next mission, cupcake," Jack crooned, resting an ankle on his knee. Despite the ache in his pants, Axton knew that Jack had his balls firmly in hand. "Yeah," Axton gruffed, ducking beyond the velvet curtain. He passed by two Hyperion soldiers, standing by the entrance and he was certain they weren't there when he went in.


End file.
